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You Know You Love Me, Xoxo

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Recently, I cajoled my mother and sister into taking a road trip to New York’s most fabulous borough: Manhattan. Unlike my first trip into New York in April (see “Bright Lights, Big City!”), this whirlwind 13 hour visit held a purpose, the purpose of my life at the moment: to find a wedding dress. A wonderfully hospitable friend offered to open her apartment to us, the weary travelers that we were. She lives in the Upper West Side. For those of you whose knowledge of New York geography comes from Gossip Girl, the Upper West Side is a neighborhood between Central Park and the Hudson River above West 59th Street. While the neighborhood distinctions were never hard-and-fast rules, and now mean little (except to Blair and Serena), it has the reputation of being home to New York City’s affluent cultural and artistic workers, in contrast to the Upper East Side, which is perceived to be traditionally home to affluent commercial and business types. There, your cultural history lesson du jour. After our evening spent in the “island of many hills”, the translation of “Manhattan” from its long time historical residents, the four of us squeezed into a cab and headed to Kleinfeld’s. Our cab driver gave me an inventive speech about the meaning of love; in his non-cab driving hours, he is a personal relationship coach and thought it wise to give the bride-to-be some therapy while the meter was running. I was hoping for cash cab, but I’ll take what I can get. We left the great state of New York a tired and overwhelmed group sans wedding dress. I’m still on the dress hunt; it looks like there may be a need for another trip in the future.

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